


Tea With Milk & Sugar.  Or Not.

by inksheddings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/pseuds/inksheddings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius thinks that Remus doesn't really like tea.  Remus must convince him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea With Milk & Sugar.  Or Not.

**Tea With Milk & Sugar.  Or Not.**

"You don't like tea." Sirius says this with absolute certainty, not one trace of doubt present in his tone or demeanor.

  


Remus smiles through the sleepy haze of morning, holding his tea cup in both hands, letting it warm him. If his brief glance out the kitchen window is any indication, it would be a very cold, very wet day.

  


"You mean this tea? That I'm drinking right now?"

  


"Yes. THAT tea, that you've disguised, that you've abominated –"

  


"Abominated?"

  


"Yes, abominated. It's not tea anymore, Remus. If you separated, weighed, and measured all the things that make up that cup of muck, tea would be the least of it. You. Don't. Like. Tea. So why drink it?"

  


Remus would laugh, but the grave look on Sirius' face keeps that particular impulse in check.

  


Sirius had slept fitfully last night, which meant that Remus hadn't slept much better. Now he's bleary-eyed, has to go to work shortly, and in desperate need of his rapidly cooling fortification. However, he decides that humoring Sirius might be the more prudent course of action. He has a feeling that it isn't really tea on his mind or causing this mood.

  


"It's just how I take my tea, Sirius. How I've taken it for as long as I can remember. I started drinking it rather young, and my mother would sweeten it up for me, that's all."

  


"So, what you're saying is, you didn't like the tea, so your mum _changed_ it to a more palatable substance."

  


"Well, I suppose, but it's still _tea_ –"

  


"Do you think you'll be adding milk and sugar to me anytime soon, Remus?"

  


Remus opens his mouth, but has absolutely no idea how to respond to that. Sirius isn't making sense. He's been a little on edge ever since Remus moved in almost two weeks ago, but that's to be expected. Their relationship is relatively new (well, the romantic aspect of it) and – and ... this really did have absolutely nothing to do with tea. Whatsoever.

  


Remus takes a deep breath and exhales, feels his muscles relax and his mind clear as he finally understands why Sirius hasn't been sleeping well, why he's been at times too quiet and at others a bit manic, and why he's suddenly so obsessed with Remus' tea-drinking preferences.

  


"Sirius, you put the toilet seat down, but not the lid. I squeeze the toothpaste from the middle of the tube. You always forget to turn off the cooker. I forget to lock the door. Your boots have scuffed the coffee table and my smoking will eventually stain the curtains. You make a cup of tea as black as your name and I like mine with milk and sugar."

  


Remus reaches across the table and takes one cold hand in his own, tries to warm it despite his own insecurities and doubts. Of course he has them too. But he also has Sirius.

  


"It's going to be all right. We managed not to hate each other for seven years, just because we're shagging now doesn't mean –" 

  


"This is different."

  


"I know."

  


"It's not just shagging."

  


"I know."

  


"This is important."

  


"I _know_."

  


He still looks uncertain, but after a few silent moments of sitting, staring, and holding hands, Remus feels Sirius give him a slight squeeze.

  


"I'll never put milk and sugar in my tea, you know. Nasty stuff. Will rot your teeth."

  


"Better than burning down the flat, which would be entirely _your_ fault."

  


Sirius, shrugging indifferently, begins to stand up from the cramped table . "So we'd get a new flat, a better flat if it came to that –"

  


Remus strengthens his grip on Sirius' hand, not letting him step away just yet.

  


"I don't want a new flat. I don't want a better flat. Do you understand?"

  


He's not sure if Sirius does understand, but he smiles warmly, so Remus lets go of his hand.

  


"You have to go to work," Sirius finally says, in a normal tone of voice now.

  


"Yes, I do," Remus responds, laughing. "But I think I'll need to make another cup of tea first. This one's gone cold."

  


Sirius picks up his wand, mutters a few short words, and Remus' cup is once again steaming.

  


Remus nods in thanks, takes a small sip.

  


Sirius watches, then says, "I still say it's muck."

  


Now Remus shrugs.

  


"It's my muck."

  


"That it is, Remus. That it is," Sirius replies as he walks toward their bedroom to get dressed and head off to his own day.

  


Remus looks out the kitchen window again, and the day's prospects haven't improved any. It's still cold and gloomy and the rain is only getting worse. 

  


But that's okay. He has his tea and he has Sirius, and as long as he can keep both he figures it'll always be a good morning.

END


End file.
